


When The Nightmares Win

by LynxRyder



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, F/M, PTSD, Post-Avengers, Tony Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:57:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynxRyder/pseuds/LynxRyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted by what he experienced during the Chitauri invasion, Tony throws himself into his work to the detriment of everything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Nightmares Win

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the PTSD sequence in the IronMan3 trailer. As soon as I saw it I knew I would have to write something even if it was just a one-shot.

 

                He tells everyone that he does not remember it. He repeats the story so many times, into cameras, in debriefing sessions, to the other Avengers, to Rhodey and Happy, to Pepper, that there are days when he almost convinces himself that he really has forgotten. These are the rare days when he does not have to work himself to exhaustion to be able to slip easily into sleep. The darkness folds over him and dreams come, dreams of the past, dreams of the future, dreams of senseless, meaningless random creation. Sometimes the memory creeps up slowly, opening up like a window in the darkness of his unguarded consciousness, but at other times it pierces his mind with sudden violence and he is there, the whole universe trembling at the edges of his failing vision, an army of incomprehensible power hovering ready to strike against a planet ill prepared for the onslaught. He remembers the feeling of horrified awe and the certainty that the tiny weapon he carried would be useless against these alien creations. And he remembers the lights on the inside of his suit flickering and dying. He remembers the cold rushing in on him and his heart straining to keep beating as his body started to fall. Crushing darkness came next, the kind that pushes out air and thought and life.

 

                He saw.

                He killed.

                He fell.

                He died.

                He returned.

 

                His name has become synonymous with hero. Even as the city lies in ruins the survivors cling to hope and their poster boy is Tony Stark. He braves the questions and the adulation when he can but increasingly he buries himself with work, telling himself (and others) that there is too much to do for him to leave the lab. He shuts out Steve Rogers' concern, he distances himself from Bruce Banner who works on separate projects in a separate part of the tower, he refuses to answer calls from Nick Fury. None of this bothers him but when he begins to close himself off from Pepper, he knows that the nightmares are gaining power over him. She spends more and more nights alone, never complaining but growing sadder so that the glow that has surrounded her for months now is often absent. Her voice takes on the clipped consistency that belongs to before and sometimes, when things get particularly bad, she addresses him as 'Mr Stark'. The first time she did this Tony was shocked into action. He left his lab, he took Pepper out for dinner, he smiled and acted just like the man he was supposed to be. When the nightmares came that night he stayed where he was, opening his eyes and facing the darkness, trying to remember how it felt to be brave. Beside him, Pepper slept on. He tried, he really tried, but by the time she had woken he had returned to the lab. Since then it has been harder to pretend and Pepper's patience is wearing thin.

                "Mr Stark, SHIELD are threatening a breach of the perimeter if you do not make contact within the next twelve hours."

                "Fine."

                "Are you even listening to me?"

                Pepper positions herself so that he is forced to look at her. Her face is sharp in its severity. How many times has he considered telling her what he sees every night? Would her sympathy be any better than her anger? No matter what emotion is contained within her beautiful eyes or the line of her soft lips, no matter what words he uses to explain, she will still not understand. He could probably take this from anyone else but not from Pepper. And he does not want to frighten her. He will never forget her face when she saw him for the first time after the Chitauri's defeat. He will never forget the force of her tears or the hours he spent holding her, telling her he would never do anything so courageous again, promising never to leave her. The Pepper facing him now is fierce and furious. She hates him. But she is not frightened, and for the moment this is all Tony can give her.

                "SHIELD," Pepper repeats, "Are you planning on acknowledging their existence or are they to receive the same treatment as me from now on?"

                These words are so bitter and barbed that Tony can feel them bedding down deep into his skin, thorns that will rip as he tries to remove them. He turns his attention back to the holographic that he has been modifying for the past three hours. He expects Pepper to leave, his silence drives her away from him faster than anything else. Instead she tries to address him again and this time her voice cracks, the desperate sound pulling at Tony's heart and forcing his head back round so he can see her.

                "Is this it, Tony?" she asks and he can see her large eyes are swimming with tears, "Are you bored? Happily ever after not what you imagined?"

                Angry at her body's betrayal, Pepper wipes a stray tear away with her hand before continuing.

                "You know what?" she fires at him, "It's not what I imagined either. Nothing like it. I never asked for much. I never wanted all of you but I deserve more than this, Tony. I..."

                Her voice breaks and she turns away, her hand rising to cover her mouth. Tony is on his feet before he can stop himself but before he can take a single step Pepper has backed away from him.

                "Don't," she whispers, "Just don't."

                Her eyes meet his once more and Tony understands how hard she is fighting.

                "Pepper..."

                Her name sticks in his throat. He has the feeling the last time he said it aloud he was talking to Jarvis. Pepper is turning away, his words even if he can speak them are coming far too late, but he cannot let her leave, she might be unable to believe it but he cannot live without her. So why can't he say it?

                "Sir..."

                Jarvis prompts him. The AI sounds concerned. Pepper is walking away. For all Tony knows she has already planned her exit, taxi called, plane booked, getaway secured.

                "Pepper, I love you."

                Pepper freezes. The very air around them seems to have solidified.

                "Do you?"

                Pepper's voice is so quiet it is almost inaudible. She is still standing with her back to him and shows no sign of being about to turn around. Her back is rigid.

                "Yes," says Tony without more than a heartbeat's hesitation, "Yes, I do, and if you..."

                He is ready to launch into one of his monologues which will spill just enough of the truth to turn Pepper back onside yet reveal nothing of the core pain he carries inside him. Pepper, however, is wise to all of his methods. She knows him better than anyone.

                "Tony," she says, "Please don't. I can't..."

                She draws in a ragged breath.

                "Do you know how many times you have told me you love me?"

                He does. He says he does not.

                "Three," Pepper informs him, "And each time it has been to stop me from walking away. I guess three's my limit. Goodbye, Tony."

                She walks to the door of the lab, she pulls it open, she leaves. Tony is still standing in exactly the same position thirty minutes later. He cannot hear Jarvis. He cannot feel his fingers. He is numb. The broken pieces inside him are sharp and jarring. He has forgotten how to be brave and now he will have to relearn alone.

 

                There is always work to do. There is solace in that. There are upgrades to the Iron Man suit to complete. There are new requests from SHIELD every day, some of which he takes up with enthusiasm, others he ignores, considering them insults to his ability. He only wants projects that anyone else would turn away. He wants impossible. He wants nights spent puzzling over equations and tensile strength and elasticity. He seeks nothing more than mental and physical exhaustion. More and more he wakes to find himself draped over one of his work benches, his muscles stiff from cold and his mind whirling. On one of these occasions a blanket was draped over him. Expecting to see Pepper, Tony had opened his eyes only to be confronted by the somewhat startling sight of Dummy using his initiative. The disappointment had been stronger and harder to swallow than the whisky he had used to knock himself out in the first place. But still he had not called her. She had not called him either. Her clothes had disappeared from the wardrobe in the bedroom they had shared, her shoes were no longer rowed neatly against the wall, her shampoo and her makeup were gone from the bathroom. Tony knew she must be running things for him from wherever she had taken herself off to, there was no way she could have left him in every sense, things would not be running so smoothly in the company if she had, but her physical removal was complete. A dozen times a day Tony considers asking Jarvis where she is. A dozen times he bites back the request. In the end it is Jarvis who brings up the subject. It is two in the morning, Tony has been awake for thirty six hours or is it forty eight? Time no longer matters, it is just another enemy to be beaten back. He has been drinking. It is only when he goes to refill his glass and finds the bottle empty that he realises how much. He stumbles on his way back to the half constructed missile prototype.

                "Sir, I must repeat my request for you to rest," says Jarvis, "You are beginning to make mistakes, this level of exhaustion is not constructive."

                "I don't make mistakes," is Tony's response. He is stubbornly refusing to avoid the way his hands are shaking. The calculations on the screen are beginning to blur but it's no big deal, if there is a mistake he can fix it. He doesn't need Jarvis to tell him that he is working too hard and too long, of course he knows that but he cannot stop. How can he when he knows what's out there? When he knows what they are up against?

                Weeks pass where the only voice he hears belongs to Jarvis. He delivers the upgraded weaponry specs that Fury asked for a month before they are due and is already working on the next version because they're not enough, they're not nearly enough and he's the only one who knows it. Everything they've got needs to be stronger, faster, more durable, more powerful. There aren't enough hours and there isn't enough damn scotch. And if he knows this, if he knows the magnitude of the task ahead of him, why is it that some nights he finds himself on his knees unable to stand, unable to function? Why is it that he cannot stop the nightmares from exerting such control over him that he cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot sleep? Another glass of amber liquid, another night spent squinting through a haze of drunken exhaustion, another prototype, another weapon in the war that he knows is coming.

 

                He keeps working.         

                He keeps drinking.

                He keeps it together, just about, just enough, while a part of him, a tiny part that hardly dares to give voice to hope, keeps waiting for someone to save him.

 

 


End file.
